“It feels so different in here. The air was thick before. It tasted swampy and… ugh, just gross. And now the air is sweet. Budd, can you open the window? Let’s hear the birds sing.”
Budd kissed her forehead before rising. When he heaved the window open, fresh summer air blasted the room with the scent of wildflowers and freshly mowed lawns. Not only could Artemis clearly hear the birds singing, but she could hear the breeze in the trees, the neighbourhood children laughing as they played, and friendly dogs barking as they tried to join the games.
Turning from the window, Budd asked, “You’d really leave without telling me?”
She shook her head. “Not anymore, babe. And I was leaving because of it, not because of you. I love you.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me what was going on? Did you think I’d love you any less?”
The hurt in his eyes drove a spike through her already-injured heart. “I’m so sorry, Budd. I was so stupid. But you saw that thing. You saw what it was capable of. It was stronger than both of us.”
“Separately, maybe.” He fell to his knees at the bedside and kissed her knuckles. “But together, nothing can take us down. That’s why I want to marry you. Artemis, will you be my wife?”
Vincent stepped casually into the bedroom. “Knock-knock. I brought this salt water. Dad, Nora said you should wash Artie’s cuts with it. That’ll seal up the negative energy or something.” He looked from Artemis in bed to his father on the floor and asked, “Did I interrupt something?”
Artemis laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Your father just asked me to marry him.”
Vincent’s face fell, momentarily, and he warily asked, “What did you say?”
“I haven’t answered yet.”
“Oookay.” Vincent handed the large bowl of saltwater to his father and crept out of the room. “Pretend I was never here.”
Budd laughed as he moved onto the bed beside Artemis, swishing the washcloth around the bowl. Artemis peeled the bed sheet down from her chest, and it stung where blood had adhered the fabric to her skin. That was nothing compared to the sting when Budd traced that saltwater-laden cloth down her chest.
“Ow, ow, ow!”
“I’m sorry!” he said, pulling away.
She took his wrist and pushed his hand back against her stinging chest. “It’s okay. If Nora thinks it’ll help then we have to do it. I don’t ever want that demon inside me again. Only you.”
With a charitable smile, Budd cleansed her flesh. She dug her nails into his thigh to suppress the need to scream. It hurt so badly she wanted to cry. And it hurt even worse when he traced the cloth down her swollen pussy and her aching asshole.
Her toes curled. She bit her lip so hard it bled.
“I hate seeing you in pain,” Budd told her. “If I could bear it for you, I would.”
“I know, babe.” And the knowing actually took some pain away. “You’re my hero, Budd.”
He broke out in a blush—an actual blush! “Nah, I’m no hero.”
“You are,” she said. “You’re mine. Forever.”
A childlike smile broke across his lips. “Does that mean you’ll marry me?”
Another round of tears filled her eyes when she said, “Of course I will.”
Epilogue
Two rows of bikers tossed flower petals at Artemis and Budd. Their wedding aisle was lined by a dozen motorcycles. Together, they made their way down the beach, trailed by Vincent and Budd’s buddies. There by the water stood Artemis’s mother and sister, a few friends from out of town, and Nora. The sensitive also happened to be an ordained minister. Who knew?
Artemis clutched her mother’s hand and smiled gleefully. She wouldn’t let anyone give her away. Not a chance. Because no one had ever owned her.
After today, Budd would own her heart. Oh, who was she kidding? He already did. They were just making it legal.
When Budd’s leather-clad biker friends formed a semi-circle around the happy couple, Nora commenced the ceremony by picking up a wooden box wrapped in layer upon layer of saltwater-impregnated twine. It was secure for now, but the only hope to be rid of the demon box forever was to send it away forever.
“Thank you for gathering here today.” Nora held up the box. “To begin the ceremony, Budd and Artemis would like to make a symbolic gesture. Every couple experiences hardships. Let this wooden box represent everything Artemis and Budd wish to put behind them. It’s wrapped in the purified twine of forgiveness. Budd? Artemis?”
When Nora handed over the demon box, its twine stung Artemis’s fingers. She gazed at her husband-to-be. He felt no pain. All she saw in Budd’s eyes was hope for their future. When he kissed her sweetly, his glowing warmth passed from his lips to hers. She felt his confidence, and it reassured her as they heaved the box into the ocean, both releasing it simultaneously.
As the sun glinted on subtle sea waves, the demon landed so far out Artemis saw the splash but lost track of the box. Since Nora had informed them a purified object must be released on an outgoing tide, whisked into the oblivion of ocean water, they’d arranged the entire wedding around watching their horrific past float away. Only their love and solidarity would remain.
Brushing off the nasty feel of the demon box on her scarlet gown, Artemis looked at Budd. He offered his hand, and she took it. When he gripped it tight she knew nothing bad could ever happen again, and tears welled in her eyes.
She stared at Budd like a schoolgirl throughout Nora’s wedding recitation. The mushy sentiments struck her so deeply she didn’t even need to hear the words. Good thing, too, because her ears hummed with the ocean’s outgoing waves. She was lost in bliss with Budd. It was a moment she’d never forget.
Nora turned to Budd. “Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Squeezing her hand, Budd said, “I do.”
Turning to Artemis, Nora asked, “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do.” She nodded vehemently, blinking back tears. “I do, Budd. I do!”
Without waiting another moment, Artemis kissed the man she loved. When his lips touched hers, she was lost. She’d be his forevermore.
Their guests laughed riotously and applauded their embrace. Somewhere in the background, Artemis heard Nora say, “Would you look at that? They couldn’t even wait for me to pronounce them husband and wife!”
“Better hurry up,” her mother said. “Jeeze, we’re gonna have to turn a hose on these two!”
Quickly, Nora said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss… well, you’re already kissing, so keep at it.”
When everyone chuckled, Artemis detected a distinct rumble underscoring the laughter. It was a familiar voice, a deep voice, and one she’d heard too many times.
Breaking away from Budd, Artemis spun around to look into the faces of every joyful biker in their midst. They’d launched the demon into the ocean. How could it possibly have escaped? And where was it? Which of these men could it possibly inhabit?
She looked every smiling biker in the eye. Blue, green, hazel, brown. No red. Not a one.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Artemis laughed at herself. It was nothing. She was just imagining things. After all she’d been through, she was bound to be skittish. She turned to their minister for reassurance. In that moment, a red light flashed across Nora’s eyes. Artemis gasped. Her muscles locked. But by the time she’d blinked, the red was gone. It must have been a reflection from the sun.
“What is it?” Budd asked. “What’s wrong?”
She looked into her husband’s eyes and then back at their minister’s. She stared at Nora, but no trace of red. Same old sensitive: warm, knowledgeable, always willing to help in any way possible. A demon as wicked as the one they’d tossed in the ocean could never summon the power to overcome her.
“Nothing’s wrong, baby. Everything’s perfect.” Artemis kissed Budd again.
Vincent started up another round of applause, and everyone
followed suit. The crowd called out, “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” and, wow, did they ever! Artemis had her husband, had her happy family all around her. She was starting a wonderful life with Budd. Together they’d extinguished the demon that threatened their eternal happiness. They’d launched him into the salt of the sea. They’d definitely seen the last of him.
She hoped…
The End
Find Giselle online at http://donutsdesires.blogspot.com or on Twitter @GiselleRenarde.
~
Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
Want to stay up to date? Sign up for Giselle’s newsletter: http://eepurl.com/R4b11
Breeding with the Beast
Parts I and II
By
Jessi Bond
Copyright 2012 Jessi Bond
-
Breeding with the Beast
Breeding with the Beast 2: Mate to the Monsters
Breeding with the Beast
The sun was already hanging low in the sky when Beauty reached the edge of the forest.
It would have been wiser to spend the night in town, she knew - but Beauty had never been much for wise decisions. So it was that she found herself at the edge of the dark woods, with nightfall coming ever closer, and her horse pawing nervously at the ground.
“Shhh, it’s all right.” She stroked his neck. “We’ll be on the other side in no time at all.”
She’d been riding André since she was a little girl, and he trusted her - but his nostrils still flared, his eyes wide with fear as he took his first hesitant steps past the tree line. He hadn’t been nearly so reticent in the early morning, when the birds sang and the moss was wet with dew. But now, even the pragmatic Beauty had to admit that the forest was beginning to feel a little forbidding.
It wasn’t her first journey through the woods. Years ago, when her father was still young and strong enough to bring his own wares to sell at the markets, they’d had a particularly profitable year that yielded more roots and vegetables than they could sell close to home. So he’d loaded up the wagon and taken Beauty along with him, back when the forest still had a clean, well-travelled path running through it.
But times had changed. Beauty’s father had passed away, leaving her to tend to the farm by herself. Now, for the first time, even Beauty’s modest needs could no longer be met by the meager earnings she could scrape together in her own village. Fewer and fewer travelers came through every day, until finally, Beauty was forced to make the hours-long journey to the neighboring town in order to sell anything at all.
She had done a good day’s work. It wasn’t much money, but it was enough to keep her on her feet for a little while. And that was all Beauty could ask for, these days.
After a few minutes, Beauty found herself obliged to light her lantern, just to keep André from stumbling. The canopy of leaves made the forest seem much darker than it ought to have been at sunset. Beauty laid a hand on her coin purse, heavy and full for the first time in so long, and tried not to regret her decision to keep all of it instead of paying an innkeeper back in town for a night spent in safety.
Beauty had heard the stories. Of course she had. Everyone who lived around the forest and everyone who regularly travelled through it had some version ready to tell after a few pints - something they heard, or saw, or thought they saw, confirming the legends of a fearsome beast who had been living in the forest for as long as anyone could remember. They said that he fed on virgins, or runaway horses, or disobedient children, depending on whom you listened to.
They said his eyes glowed in the darkness - red, or yellow, or orange. He was as tall as a man, or many times taller. There were fearsome claws, and perhaps a tail, and one traveler even insisted that he’d seen the beast fly.
As a child, Beauty had been somewhat afraid of the beast. But she’d long grown out of believing in fairy tales.
Still, it was hard not to think of the legends now, with the shadows growing longer and longer and André snorting nervously, no matter how she whispered and patted his mane. Beauty’s mind might have been filled with stories, but André was only a horse. He had no myths or legends clouding his mind. He only knew what he smelled, and he was afraid.
Beauty’s throat constricted slightly as she gently dug her heels into André’s sides, urging him on faster. Her heart was beating hard and heavy against her ribcage. The increased speed made the lantern flicker, and Beauty tried to hold it steady as André cantered through the narrow paths.
Beauty was finding it difficult to judge the passage of time. She imagined they must be at least one third of the way through the woods by now, but she couldn’t be sure. Her lantern was doing little to cut through the darkness. André must be finding his way mostly by smell.
Suddenly, the horse came to a dead stop, rearing up on his hind legs. Beauty only just managed to hold onto the lantern and the reins, leaning forward so she didn’t fall.
“What’s wrong?” she hissed, as if he could answer.
He was perfectly still now, back on all fours, staring into the darkness. Quivering.
Beauty heard it then. Soft, growling breaths. Somewhere in the shadows. Somewhere close.
She only had a moment to remember to be afraid, before the beast pounced.
-
When Beauty came back to herself, she was still in the dark.
She blinked a few times, straining her eyes to try and see her surroundings. It was cold, and the air felt damp in her lungs. She managed to sit up and soon realized she wasn’t restrained in any way, although she didn’t yet feel steady enough to get up and explore the room.
The rattling sound of a key in a lock echoed in the room. Beauty scrambled backwards, panicked, until she found herself up against a cold stone wall. She’d only just managed to get to her feet when her eyes were drawn to a small pinpoint of light coming towards her - it was a candle, she realized, carried by a very old woman, hunched over and shuffling slowly across the rough floor.
“Please don’t be frightened, dear,” came the woman’s voice, very quiet and slightly strained. “I know that’s a tall order at a time like this, but I won’t hurt you. I’ve just come to bring you some supper.”
Beauty’s stomach growled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten in many hours. She didn’t know if she’d have the strength of will to refuse the meal.
“It’s not tainted,” the old woman assured her, as if reading her thoughts. Now that she was closer, Beauty could see the weariness and sadness in her eyes. She reached slowly for the steaming bowl of stew and the crust of bread that lay on the tray the old woman held. She hesitated to take the first bite, but once she tasted it - thick and meaty, filled with fresh herbs - she devoured the bowl in no time at all and gulped down the cup of water that came with it.
The old woman smiled.
“There, dear. Is that better?”
Beauty nodded. “Where am I?
“You’re in the dungeon, dear.” She looked vaguely troubled by the notion - though certainly not as troubled as Beauty was. “I tried to tell him there was no need to treat you like a prisoner, but…”
“Him?”
“The master, dear.” The old woman blinked owlishly. “I thought you’d met.”
A chill ran through Beauty’s chest. “You mean…that…creature?”
“He prefers that we don’t draw attention to it. But, I suppose you might call him that. Most people certainly don’t hesitate to call him all sorts of things. They don’t know anything about him, but that doesn’t stop them from telling terrible stories about him. How he killed their horses or came and stole their sheep in the night. Or worse. None of it’s true, dear. The master’s not like that. He wasn’t always like this. He used to be a man, just like them.”
Beauty’s head was swimming. “I don’t understand.”
“Nor do I,” the old woman sighed. “All I know is that it’s true, because I was there. I was the boy’s nursemaid from the day he was born, and I was wi
th him the day he changed. It was a fearsome sight, I don’t mind telling you. But it only changed his appearance - it didn’t change his nature. He’s not an animal.”
She thought of the harsh breaths she’d heard in the forest, of the claws and fur she’d briefly seen before she lost consciousness. I beg to differ.
“I don’t understand why he attacked me,” she said, eyeing the woman. She sighed again, heavily, before she answered.
“You mustn’t judge him too harshly. He’s forgotten himself. I’m afraid the master is growing desperate. He doesn’t have much time.”
“Time to do what?” Beauty felt an icy tendril of fear running through her body.
“I’m not supposed to say,” the old woman whispered, looking over her shoulder as if he might appear at any moment. “I’d best be on my way. Here. Let me give you some light.”
She shuffled over to a sconce on the wall and lit it, flooding the room with dim, flickering light. “The master will come to see you shortly,” she said, and upon seeing Beauty’s face: “Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you.”
Once the old woman was gone, Beauty got to her feet and began exploring the room. The ceiling was too high to see, but she now saw the long stone wall in front of her, which culminated in a huge iron gate in the corner. She approached it slowly. The light was even dimmer here, but she peered through the bars nonetheless, trying to see what was in the darkness beyond the door. She thought she could just make out a staircase, but it was hard to be sure.
Suddenly, she heard a noise echoing from somewhere not too far away. Grunting. Heavy breaths. Her blood chilled, but she forced herself not to run and hide. There was no point. He’d find her no matter where she went, so she might as well face him.
She stood, straight-backed and steadfast, inches from the door. Through the bars, she could see a huge, hulking shadow slowly come into view. She swallowed hard, and forced herself to remain calm.
Shifters, Beasts, and Monsters Page 48
